


Shedding Old Armor

by Aryashi



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Canon-typical language, Gen, Iris Retirement Moon, Lots of daemons, Post-Season/Series 15 (Red vs. Blue), Standing around and talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 10:02:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20813303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aryashi/pseuds/Aryashi
Summary: Locus and Yehji have a... complicated relationship.  They're working on that. They also have collectively complicated relationship with other people's daemons. They're working on that too.





	Shedding Old Armor

Locus… circles.

He doesn’t think of himself as the circling type, but eventually Yehji calls him on it. “Either make contact or stop _ orbiting,” _she says, mostly annoyed but slightly affectionate. He’s sitting in A'rynasea looking down on Iris, cloaked six ways to Sunday and literally in orbit.

Locus sighs. “Just for information,” he says.

“Just for information,” Yehji repeats.

Locus is in the midst of a time consuming, tricky, and most importantly _ involving _task of untangling a gun running operation a few systems over. He knows Carolina used to run in those circles (Agent Carolina makes waves even while she’s on the run and pretending to be dead), and if he’s going to proceed he needs names that databases can’t give him. Hence, information.

Locus feels like they parted on good terms, and Dexter Grif will probably vouch for him, but-

But.

“We did try very hard to murder them,” Yehji says. She’s been doing that a lot recently, voicing the thoughts he doesn’t get all the way to thinking himself.

“Yes.”

Yehji squeezes him tight. He tries to spend less time in armor, she tries to spend less time wrapped around his limbs in that particular configuration, but some days the comfort is too much to be without.

“I haven’t seen most of them.” She says, like an observation. A bullet point on a list of facts. “Only Grif and Laliel.” Yehji had only been out of Locus’ armor once on Chorus, and the reds and blues had not been present. Even when freeing them from Temple’s prison Yehji had taken her usual post inside Locus’ armor. Yehji has only ever heard their voices.

“You deserve to meet them,” Locus says. “Officially.”

Yehji shifts, loosens, readjusts. Emerges from her hatch. She stares at Locus, at the blank mask of his helmet, and for the first time in this whole conversation Yehji is surprised.

“...” she says.

“If you want to,” Locus says.

“It’s… been a long time.” Yehji extends more and wraps loosely around Locus’ head. Locus feels slightly ridiculous, but it isn’t a new sensation for him, so he doesn’t comment.

“... Laliel will be there,” Locus says.

Yehji nods. “Okay. Okay.” She retreats, but only enough so she’s peeking out of her hatch.

Locus straightens in his chair. “A'rynasea, plot a landing course.”

-

Against all of Locus’ instincts, A’rynasea lands uncloaked. He’s not going in like a thief or a spy, because thieves and spies don’t get to idly chat about years old contacts. He suspects that sneaking in would also lead to getting Carolina’s boot direct to his solar plexus.

So when he exits the hatch, he’s not _ surprised _that he sees all the reds and blues armed and staring at him. A little disappointed, but not surprised.

Then again, none of them are actually _ pointing _the guns at him. So that’s a plus.

They make a motley menagerie, all standing together. Agent Washington and Carolina are in the front, of course. Washington has his black footed cat on his shoulder. She’s small, but composed and unruffled. Carolina’s insect daemon is hard to spot at a distance, and could very easily be tucked away and hidden in her armor. Sarge is only slightly behind them (Locus doubts his pride could handle much further back than he is) with Zarea sitting at the ready. A german shepard is terribly cliche for a soldier’s soul, but they carry Sarge’s thinking with them, because Locus can see their tail wagging in barely contained excitement. Hoping for a fight, perhaps. Locus is unsure.

On Sarge’s side are the rest of Red Team. Simmons has his chimpanzee hanging from his back, mirroring the way Grif’s saltwater tank is attached to his own. Locus can’t see Laleil, Grif’s hawaiian octopus, from here, but he knows she’s there. Grif has a below average range. Donut’s archangel pigeon is sat on top of his helmet, slightly ruffled. He eyes Locus suspiciously from his perch. 

Blue team flanks on Washington’s right, Tucker standing stiff and awkward. His bird of paradise flits around his shoulders, unable to settle. A daemon that small really should be in a compartment in Tucker’s armor, but his file did mention Tucker's pride was a weakness. Caboose’s beast of a russian bear dog, of course, wags her tail and smiles a big happy dog smile at him. 

“Hello,” Locus says, because greeting people is polite.

“Hello!” Caboose calls out from the back. Ket’s tail wags even harder. 

“Locus,” Washington says. It’s more than Locus was expecting for a number of reasons, (the hole in Washington's neck is vivid in his mind) but he’s glad to be proven wrong. Olympia is ever so slightly arched. Not outright threatening, but ready. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Straight to the point then. Acceptable.

“Dude, cool it with threatening voice,” Grif says, casually inserting himself in between Locus and the rest of the group. “It’s Locus, he’s chill.”

Grif’s facing Wash, meaning Laliel is facing them. She waves through her tank, and Locus considers waving back, but-

Wait.

Yehji is hiding again. Had been the entire time Locus was taking stock of the reds and blues. Locus sighs through his nose, but doesn’t comment. Forcing the issue wouldn’t accomplish anything.

“I was hoping to speak with Agent Carolina,” Locus says, pushing forward. Focus on the primary objective if your secondary objective doesn’t pan out, simple as that.

Carolina steps forward a few paces, and that distance crossed allows Locus to see the large wasp on the brow of her visor. 

Raleigh is out of Carolina’s armor. It strikes Locus as unusual to see her tarantula hawk sitting on top of her helmet, wings occasionally fluttering as she approaches. Threatening, or nervous? The art of reading insect daemons was not one Locus ever mastered. Felix used to complain for days about their commanding officer and his ant daemon, and people were_ his _job.

“Yes?” she says, cautious curiosity spiced with the tiniest taste of threat. Locus envies her ability to convey so much with so few words.

“You used to run in the Udvar system.”

Carolina projects a single raised eyebrow through her helmet. Raleigh flutters, and Locus still doesn’t know what that means.

“I’m currently attempting to dismantle a gun running operation, run by a Mister Gold,”

Carolina sighs. “He’s still using that dumb nickname?”

Locus nods. “It’s all anyone I talk to knows him by.”

“What kind of coward doesn’t even go by his own name?!” Sarge says, to Locus, over Carolina’s shoulder. Zarea sits at his side and nods firmly.

“... Right,” Locus says, “Any information you could offer about his operation would be helpful. He’s been trafficking in knock-off Project Freelancer tech recently, most likely bought off of pirates that managed to escape Chorus and go to ground.”

“Wouldn’t it be knock off Charon tech at that point?” Simmons says, idly curious.

“Knock off of a knock off,” Sydone interjects, swinging lightly from Simmons’ back and onto the ground. “Maybe it’ll go the way of all other bootlegs and blow itself up before we’ve gotta worry about it.”

Locus smirks under his helmet. “The quality of the products isn’t really what worries me.”

“Probably more worried about the mob selling guns to other criminals,” Laliel says. She could be talking to Sydone or to Locus directly, and he’s not sure how he feels about that. Daemons talking to other people is… unusual. He thinks. Maybe. When was the last time Locus was sure about anything involving daemons?

Carolina waves them off. “If we’re going to talk, you should at least come inside. Talking across field like this makes me twitchy.”

Locus agrees. He keeps checking his thermal and motion sensors out of the corner of his eye, as though Iris isn’t completely isolated and hidden. Something about talking at a distance makes everyone involved expect betrayal.

Yehji shifts against his suit.

\---

The kitchen is packed with the reds and blues, despite Carolina’s best efforts. Caboose is convinced that Locus visiting means it’s snack time, Tucker wants in on the snacks, Grif _ demands _ in on the snacks, and Simmons follows Grif like any other course of action didn’t occur to him.

Sarge, Donut, and Washington are also there, but Locus didn’t pick up their reasoning.

It’s a madhouse, practically a zoo with everyone and their daemons all in one space. The kitchen is roomy and open, objectively, but nine people and their daemons are still nine people and their daemons. Split off into their own conversations and arguments, Locus practically feels like him and Carolina have some privacy. Strange.

Carolina takes off her helmet and shakes her hair into a slightly more natural position. She’s got it cut short, not a military buzz but a kind of pixie cut that Locus thinks of as ‘the edge of regulation’ before anything else. He realizes he’s only seen Carolina’s picture in personnel files before this moment; this is the first time he’s seen her face.

Yehji still hasn’t seen her face. He shifts his shoulders slightly and she shifts her body back.

Raleigh never disembarked from her helmet, so when Carolina sets it on the table the tarantula hawk is right there with it. The fluorescent light catch the orange sheen of his wings and reflects the blue tints of his shell. Locus knows he’s being looked over.

“Okay.” Carolina says. “What do you want to know?”

Locus tears his eyes away from Raleigh. “Anything you can tell me. I’ve done my due diligence, but there’s a point where research alone doesn’t matter, and I don’t want to risk tipping off the people I’m after with groundwork just yet.”

“And you’re doing this… why? Out of the goodness of your heart?”

“Mister Gold’s forces run the Udvar system, and they’re running it into the ground. Heavily destabilized, violent, full of guns and crime. I take out this element, the quality of life improves for no less than 3 colonies.”

Raleigh buzzes. Locus doesn’t flinch, but Yehji tightens her coils around him. “You can’t buy forgiveness with good deeds,” he says.

“I know,” Locus says, hands open and relaxed. “It’s still the right thing to do, and something I _ can _do.”

Carolina doesn’t say anything, but Raleigh flies into her hair and whispers something in her ear. He almost looks like a hair accessory, perched there.

“First of all,” Carolina says, “The Udvar system is pretty cut off. That’s why I went there to get my papers forged. People don’t ask a lot of questions, so long as you keep your head down.” Carolina gives Locus a once over. “You’ll need some kind of insect daemon lanyard if you’re going to pass, it’s not a full armor town.”

Locus blinks. Rolls over Carolina’s point in his head. “... a lanyard?”

Raleigh turns to him again. “Aren’t you separated?”

Despite his best efforts, Locus laughs. It’s really more of a slight chuckle, but it startles everyone in the room into giving him undivided attention. “Always the same rumors…” he mutters.

Washington cuts in, “Doyle said as much.”

“I let Doyle believe a great many things that were not true.”

“... So?” Grif says. Laliel actually peaks over his shoulder, out of her tank.

_ You’re not going to get a better moment than this, _ Locus thinks. _ Come on. _

Yehji shifts. No, she _ squirms, _right on the edge of flailing under Locus’ armor. A second or two of this, and then-

Her hatch opens.

“Oh. My. _ God,” _ Caboose whispers loudly. “ _ She’s so cute.” _

Ket practically leaps at Locus, stopped short only by the issue of not being able to lick Yehji without bodily tackling Locus himself. She bounces around him instead, tail wagging up a storm. “Hi! Hello! You’re so _ small! _ What’s your name?! _ ” _

“Yehji,” Laleil says.

Ket wheels around to face Grif “How’d you know that? Are you psychic?”

Laliel wraps tighter around herself. “We met when Locus picked us up, jeez.” Then she dove back into her tank. At least Yehji wasn’t the only daemon prone to hiding.

Raleigh, as a flying daemon, can get as close as he likes. Yehji backs away, but Raleigh isn’t deterred and gets in closer.

“... Black rat snake?” he guesses.

Yehji doesn’t respond, so Locus picks up her slack. “No.” He could elaborate, but he suddenly would rather eat glass than talk about his daemon.

Yehji keeps backing away from Raleigh, revealing more and more of her body in the process. Eventually she over balances and falls backward. She transitions the motion into actually emerging all the way from his suit, because admitting she did the snake version of leaning too far back into a chair is just too much.

“Oh… not so small.” Caboose says, as Yehji climbs all the way out of Locus’ armor. All 15 feet of her.

“... Dude.” Tucker says. Jamilli hops off the kitchen cupboard and gets in closer to investigate. The bird of paradise has a curious streak, and she indulges it by leaning over the edge of the kitchen table. 

Zarea, who’d been sitting by Sarge's side for most of this conversation, finally has something to say. “Good golly miss Molly…” they mutter, “Look at the size of ya.” Their expression strikes Locus as eager. 

Now that Yehji has extracted herself from Locus, every daemon in the room moves in to get a closer look. Yehji rears up and hisses, mouth open wide to reveal her the distinctive black maw.

“Black Mamba,” Washington says, still leaning against the kitchen counter and drinking his coffee. Olympia hadn’t approached, and got to look smugly superior when all the other daemons startled away.

Ket leans down into the universal ‘wanna play?’ position, joy clear as day on her face. “You’re so big! Like me! Except you can fit in Locus’ armor! What’s that like? WAIT--” Ket gasps “ARE YOU ALWAYS HUGGING HIM?!”

Yehji slowly curls in tighter on herself, which with all her length is a pretty impressive feat. Sydone takes the opportunity to pull Ket back by the scruff of her neck.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “Ket’s excitable.”

Jamilli lands right in front of Yehji, in a move that strikes Locus as daring. Locus also realizes the humans in the room have all gone silent, watching their daemons interact. Is that normal? Granted, daemon introductions usually happened concurrent with human ones. This all feels like uncharted territory.

“So you’re Locus’ daemon,” Jamilli says. Yehji, still bunched up in a ball of tense snake, nods slightly.

Birds of paradise aren’t particularly intimidating. Jamilli still looks small standing in front of Yehji, even when Yehji is compressed into as tight a coil as she can be. It should be a comical image, a predator so frightened by prey. Locus can’t find any proper amusement. He only feels the hollowing dread of being judged.

Jamilli tilts her head from one side to the other, examining. Locus glances in Tucker’s direction, but he’s only leaning against the counter and watching himself. She finally speaks. “I was expecting something… scarier.”

Yehji slowly blinks.

“I mean yeah, big fuck off snake, sure. Not like you were hiding a kitten in there, but-”

Olympia finally inserts herself into the conversation as only a cat can, casually sauntering in from behind Jamilli, tail raised high. “But he isn’t soulless,” she says, “Except we knew that already, right?” She pierces Yehji to the wall with a look. “He saved our lives.”

Locus flinches, but he doesn’t argue. Denying his actions would be ridiculous.

Washington, for his part, sits down on the side of the table, between Locus and Carolina, drinking what looks like milk and sugar with coffee for flavor out of a mug reading WORLD’S BEST AUNT in a floral magenta font. “She suits you,” he says.

Locus does not have the first clue how to respond to that. Is it a platitude? It sounds like a platitude, except for the natural sincerity in Washington’s voice. While Locus is staring at Washington trying to puzzle out exactly what he means, a jolt strikes him like a spear through his spine.

Olympia touched noses with Yehji. Yehji had emerged to meet the gesture while Locus had his focus elsewhere, but why did he react so-

Yehji isn’t backing away. She’s frozen stiff on Olympia’s nose tip.

Oh.

How long, exactly, has it been since Yehji has touched another daemon?

_ Not since Gratif, _was his first thought, except that couldn’t possibly be right. Has Yehji truly not touched a daemon since Siris left? That’s insane, and besides, wasn’t there a middle phase? When Siris was gone but he hadn’t locked himself and his daemon in a tin can to rot?

Olympia, for her part, looks awkward. The standard greeting is a short nose touch, holding the position looks strange and unnatural even to Locus. But still, neither party moves.

Then Sydone loses his grip on Ket and the huge mound of fur crashlands into both the small wildcat and the huge snake. .

“Sorry!” she says, hardly sounding sorry at all. “I slipped!”

This is not how Locus pictured this event, when he proposed it. Mostly he imagined Yehji sticking her head out of his armor and introducing herself. Yehji being fully exposed and silent… that was wrong. Uncanny. Even more wrong and uncanny is how Yehji is under a huge, ridiculously friendly daemon. Like something out of a comedy sketch, the intimidating first impression laid low by a softer daemon’s honest affection. Locus dimly hears canned laughter from sitcoms old before he was born.

But instead of bad, Yehji held beneath a daemon as threat, it feels… safe. Comfortable. A huge furry simulation of the press of armor on her scales. For the first time since Yehji emerged from Locus’ armor, she feels almost relaxed.

Relaxed enough that when Donut’s pigeon lands in front of her nose, she doesn’t flinch away.

“Your _ scales!” _ Quirtra coos, “Such a great color! How do you manage it? How often do you preen?”

“Snakes don’t preen,” Yehji says.

“And so she speaks.” Raleigh is hovering over events now, evidently not wanting to get in the middle of that mess of bodies and fur.

Yehji half heartedly hisses at him, but it’s a fraction of the effort she put into trying to scare them off before. “Not everyone feels the need to comment on every single occurrence as it happens.”

Grif actually takes a step forward and drops Laliel's tank on to the ground. She emerges immediately, a hawaiian octopus poking out of her tank to get a closer look. Donut's pigeon ruffles up a bit, ridiculous colors shining in the afternoon light. What was it Felix always said about domesticated daemons?

_ Nothing wild in them at all, no survivor has a fucking pet for a soul. _

Probably something worth forgetting.

Laliel works her way up to Yehji and touches a tentacle to her nose.

“Nice to see you again,” she says, “Especially since Ket finally gets a new daemon to bother.”

Ket, for her part, is sniffing every square inch of Yehji she can get her nose on. As a russian bear dog, it’s a lot of nose, but Yehji is a lot of snake. They both seem content with the arrangement.

“Likewise,” Yehji says, reciprocating Laliel’s contact. Thankfully without the awkward pause this time.

Sydone gets in close, and Locus can almost _ smell _how desperate he is to touch Laliel. A chimpanzee with a bad case of hover-hand is perhaps the least subtle thing on the planet. Laliel, still focused on Yehji, casually holds up a tentacle and Sydone lets it wrap around his fingers.

_ Oh. So that’s the situation. _Locus can’t even imagine how frustrating this level of pining would be on a 24/7 basis. If Locus could spot that connection it must be visible from space.

Zarea shoves her way past everyone, taking an extra step to the side to ensure she bumps just slightly into Lalie’s tank. “Pleasure to meet you!” they bark, “Though you have been pinned by a dirty blue. Shameful. But! You could regain some of your honor by goin a few rounds with yours truly!” Zarea bares their teeth, but something about it is friendly. The contrast of this offer and the times Locus has seen Zarea actually threatening someone is staggering. 

Yehji doesn’t move. “I am a bit preoccupied.”

“You got a calendar? We could make this happen.”

With that, the conversation starts to slow down into a daemon background hum. The menagerie content to keep to itself, the humans in the room finally go back to what they were doing. Locus turns back to Carolina just in time to spot a small smile.

For the first time in entirely too long, Locus feels like returning it.

Yehji is surrounded by daemons, but she doesn’t feel trapped or cornered. Pressed underneath Ket she feels safe, in Locus’ armor, hidden, safe, but not lonely. The feeling sings crystal clear through their connection. It’s like a perfect shed, or a well caught meal.

“Locus?” He blinks and turns back to face Carolina. “Are you… okay?” She has a slight pull to her brows.

“I’m…” Locus ponders. “Good.”

And he is. 

They both are.

**Author's Note:**

> In case there was any confusion!
> 
> Locus: Yehji, Black Mamba
> 
> Carolina: Raleigh, Tarantula Hawk  
Washington: Olympia, Black Footed Cat  
Sarge: Zarea, German Shepard  
Grif: Laliel, Hawaiian Ocotopus  
Simmons: Sydone, Chimpanzee  
Donut: Quirtra, Archangel Pigeon  
Tucker: Jamilli, Bird of Paradise  
Caboose: Ket, Russian Bear Dog
> 
> alt title- there's a snake in my boot


End file.
